


The Storybook of Legends- Sanders Sides rewrite

by TheMasqueradeWitch



Category: Ever After High, Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Lol what's proofreading?, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:27:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24783076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMasqueradeWitch/pseuds/TheMasqueradeWitch
Summary: Book One of Ever After High, written in the Sanders Sides fandom. Literally.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 24





	1. A Very Short Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a one page Ever After High AU of Sanders Sides and I liked the idea but it hasn't been updated in 3 years so I decided to do it myself. I literally am writing the entire book, all 31 chapters, with OC's and Sanders Sides characters. Why?
> 
> Because I can. 
> 
> I'm only doing books 1-3 because those are the ones I have, and The Legend of Shadow High. The Orange Side will be added after his confirmation.

The Great Hall of Ever After High smelled like floor wax and old stone mixed with the tangy musk of magic. The fire in the hearth burned blue. An enchanted frog sat beside the arched doorway, repeating, “Welcome to the Legacy Day ceremony. Please watch your step. Crrrroak.”

The second-year students passed the frog - some tripping on the step - and walked solemnly outside. On the castle terrace, the audience waited in gilded chairs. Beyond a stream-carved ravine, the Enchanted Forest twinkled with the bright trails of fairies. But the students hadn’t gathered on the terrace for the view. All eyes were on Headmaster Thomas Grimm, standing at the podium. He smoothed down his chocolate-brown hair and grinned at the audience

He held up the Storybook of Legends so all could see. Magic sparked off its gold-embossed cover like glitter in a whirlwind.  
“Today is the most important day at Ever After High - indeed, the most important day in all of the land of Ever After.”  
The audience cheered.  
“This year, Legacy Day is your day,” the headmaster said to the second year students, who were lined up before the stairs to the podium. They were dressed in their formal Legacy Day outfits - beautiful ball gowns, regal prince suits, mermaid dresses dripping salty puddles.  
“Today you take your first step in claiming your glorious fairytale legacies. Once you sign the Storybook of Legends, you are magically bound to your parent’s story. You will relive it. In this way, your story, your legacy - and your very life - will be preserved.”  
The headmaster placed the book carefully on the podium and stepped back.

The first student to climb the stairs rode on the back of a mouse all the way up the side of the podium. The tiny boy leaped off the mouse and declared his destiny as the next Tom Thumb. His signature in the book was a blot the size of an ant.  
The daughter of a fairy godmother pushed her glasses up her nose and signed her promise to become the next Cinderella’s helper.  
A future witch wore her mother’s black dress and pointy hat, but her lavender flip-flops peeked from beneath the ragged hem. She signed with a frown, hastily wiping a tear off her cheek.

While everyone watched with interest, two in the audience barely breathed. They barely blinked. One leaned forward, yearning for his chance to sign. The other leaned back, as if nervous to get too close.  
Both would take their turn at the book in just one year. And one’s choice would change the Land of Ever After forever. After.


	2. Never Touch The Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil Queen gets ready for his second year.

Once upon a new school year, Virgil Queen was packing. He blasted Panic! In the Ballroom’s new album from his MirrorPod, dancing while grabbing things from his closet and tossing them into his clothing trunk. The heap of clothes was entirely purple and black, so he threw in a pair of silver boots to add colour.

Virgil opened his window. The sun was setting into the copper sea. The last page of summer was closing. “Hey, Oolog!” he called out as he hefted his trunk onto the windowsill of his fourth-story bedroom. He let the trunk fall. In the courtyard below, the family ogre caught it with one blue hand and waved to him. He waved back.

Summer had been nice. No homework - just hours and hours to listen to music and read mystery novels. A couple of days each week he had babysat Cook’s twin boys - Butternut and Pie - in exchange for heaps of pastries. And he and Dad had sailed their little boat down the coast to spend a week with Pinocchio and his son, Janus Wood. Virgil had loved making visits with the Blue-Haired Fairy, playing card games by the fire, and staying up late with Janus, trading conspiracy theories and laughing into their pillows.

All nice as mice. But Virgil was eager to rejoin his friends at Ever After High for his second year of boarding school. He was trying very hard not to think about how his Legacy Day was just a few weeks away. Ever since witnessing Legacy Day as a first-year, he’d done his best to block it out. Back then, the future had seemed so distant.

A foghorn bellowed, calling him to dinner. Virgil put on a hoodie as he left his room. Queen Castle was chilly. There were far too many unoccupied rooms to bother lighting fires in all their hearths. When his mother had ruled, the castle had teemed with servants, soldiers, and creatures of the shadows., And all of them had watched young Virgil, ready to tattle to his mother if they caught Virgil doing anything kind.

“Virgil,” his mother would say, “a Goblin heard you apologize to a rat for stepping on its tail. Such behavior must stop!” “But I didn’t mean to step on its tail,” he’d say. “Not that, the apology! An Evil King never apologizes for anything. You must learn that now.” Virgil preferred the castle mostly empty.

He made his way through the massive Great Hall, feeling as if he’d been swallowed by a whale. He stuck out his tongue at the shadows and slid down the banister of the staircase like he used to when he was a kid. He flung open the huge dining room doors and announced, “I’m here!” Years ago his mother hosted hundreds of guests at that dining table. Tonight, as usual, the only diner were Virgil, his father, Cook, and Cook’s four-year-old sons.

“Virgil!” Butternut and Pie said in unison. They had hair as orange as Butternut’s namesake and faces as round as Pie’s “Hey, little Cookings,” he said. “I made this for you,” said Pie, pushing a piece of paper across the table. Virgil held up a finger painting of himself done in all black and purple. “Wicked cool, thank you,” he said. Virgil’s father, the Good King, kissed his forehead when he sat beside him. His trimmed beard was beginning to grey, and the top of his head was completely bald, as if his hair had made room for the golden crown he rarely bothered to wear. His eyes were bright blue and brightened even more when he smiled - which was often.

“All packed?” he asked. “Don’t forget to bring a warm coat. And rain boats. And an enchanted umbrella.” “Got it,” said Virgil. “And don’t you stay cooped up in here all year without me. Cook, make sure he gets outside, goes sailing and fishing.” “Of course. Now dinner. I made roast duck,” Cook said hopefully, lifting the platter. “I’ll just have a prince pea-butter sandwich, please,” Virgil said while playing peekaboo behind his napkin with Butternut. Cook rolled her eyes but handed Virgil his usual sandwich.

“Thank you,” Virgil said, and then winced automatically. But his mother wasn’t there to scold him for being nice. His father must have noticed his wince, because he put a comforting hand on his shoulder and smiled.

“My meat is cold,” said Butternut. “I’ll warm it up for you,” Virgil said, wiggling his fingers as if preparing to cast a spell. “No!” both Cook and the king said at once, lunging to their feet. Virgil laughed. “Oh my, you had me for a moment.” The king pressed his hand to his heart and sat back down.

A couple of years before, Virgil had tried to heat up his father’s meal and ended up setting the entire table on fire. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. Dark magic + good intentions = catastrophe. After the plum pudding, the Good King said, “Cook, thank you so much for a perfect dinner. Virgil, would you…?” He inclined his head toward the door. Virgil’s stomach turned cold, but he followed him out.

Once they were alone in the hall, he whispered, “It’s time, Virgil. If you’d rather not…” “No, I’ll go talk to her.” “I’ll go with you,” he said. Virgil shook his head. He was fifteen now. He was old enough to face his mother alone.

Virgil straightened his shoulders and began the long walk to the Queen’s Wing in the Other Side of the Castle for the first time in a year. Colours dimmed - dark wood walls, scarlet and black carpets. Portrait paintings looked down. His mother smiling. His mother not smiling. His mother’s profile. A close-up of his mother’s nose. In one, his mother was winking. In all of them, his mother was beautiful. Monstrous statues seemed to watch Virgil as he passed. Drapes rustled where there was no draft. Virgil’s forehead prickled with cold sweat. Two guards in shiny armor stood outside his mother’s old bedroom, wielding spiky spears and magic staffs. They nodded to him as he opened the door. “Remember,” said one, “never touch the mirror.” “I remember,” he said.

The room was so thick with cobwebs it seemed as if skeletons had decorated for a party. Virgil fought his way through the webs to the far wall and ripped the velvet cloth off the mirror. He saw his own reflection staring back - wavy black hair with purple highlights, black eyeshadow, strong nose and chin. It was strange to see his own face. He usually avoided looking at himself in mirrors unless it was for make-up. Mirror-gazing had been his mother’s hobby.

“Mirror, mirror on the wall,” he said, “um… show me my mother.” The mirror didn’t require a rhyme to work. Rhyming was so last chapter.

The mirror sparked, electricity skating across its silver surface. Slowly his mother appeared. She was wearing a striped jumpsuit. Her dark hair was piled on her head in the shape of a crown “Virgil, is that you? You’re so… so handsome!” The Evil Queen laughed. “You are going to give that fair-skinned, blood-lipped brat a run for his money!” Virgil tousled his hair, letting his bangs fall over half his face.

“Hey Mother,” he said. “How’s, you know, mirror prison?” “Meh,” the Evil Queen said with a pretty shrug. “Tell me all the gossip. What’s happening in Ever After? Did they figure out how to undo my poisoning of Wonderland madness yet? Has someone else copied me and tried to take over all the kingdoms? Is your father still a mind-numbing excuse for a man?” Virgil clenched his fists. _Don’t make fun of my dad!_ he wanted to shout. But he met those dark eyes in the mirror, took a deep breath, and looked down. Even with his mother imprisoned far away, he didn’t dare argue back. “Everything’s pretty much the same as last year. And the year before.” “Ha! See what happens when I’m gone? Nothing! I made life interesting. I hope you learn from this, darling. You have to go out there and force life to be what you want it to be, like I did.” “Yeah,” said Virgil.

His mother had certainly made his childhood interesting. In those days, the castle was always crowded with soldiers in spiked armour and creatures that scurried through shadows and hissed at him. Quality time with Mother had included sitting on her lap while the queen met with her generals and hatched plots to kill, conquer, and rule, or spending hours in the dungeon worksop, coughing on smoke and helping Mother make toxic potions and evil spells.

“So are you ready for your Legacy Year?” asked the queen. “Ready to sign the Storybook of Legends and bind yourself to following my footsteps?” Virgil shrugged. “You should be eager to become the Evil King. Why, your legacy is one of power, control, and command! Just think, you could have been born to one of those pathetic good princes who have to do ridiculous things to rescue princesses. Or worse, get suckered into eating a poisoned apple!” The queen cackled beautifully. If ever a cackle could bring a tear to your eye, it was the Evil Queen’s. “I guess I just… I just…” “What? Don’t mumble. Stop slouching and speak up like a King. Now, what were you saying?” Virgil straightened his spine. “Nothing. Never mind.” “Don’t be so timid, Virgil. This is your chance to show those dull ‘good’ folk just what you’re made of!” “Okay, I’ll try.” And as if a show of effort, he cracked a small smile.

“I’m so proud! Oh, I miss you, my beautiful baby.” His mother lifted her hand, pressing it against the mirror as if she were just on the other side of a window. “Let me touch you, even if it’s only through glass.” Virgil’s hand lifted, almost of its own accord. His mother really did love him, in her way. Hope was like a sticky, too-sweet syrup he yearned to drink just one more time. But Virgil stopped his hand before he touched the mirror. This wasn’t the actual mirror prison, that was far away and locked up tight. But his mother was such a powerful sorceress she might be able to take Virgil’s hand even through a viewing portal. “I love you Mother,” said Virgil, “but I’m not helping you escape.” The queen’s eyes narrowed, and her hand dropped.

“Hmph. If you were as evil as I raised you to be, you wouldn’t hesitate. I must say Virgil, I'm disappointed in you. Never mind. I’ll watch with interest to see what you accomplish. You have inherited a bottomless capacity for true evil and breathtaking power. Don’t waste it.” She leaned in so close all Virgil could see in the mirror were his mother’s deep purple eyes. “Give ‘em hex, Virgil Queen.”

Virgil swallowed. All he wanted was to run away. Their time ended and the mirror turned off. Instead of his mother’s face, Virgil saw his own again. It was remarkable, really, how much they looked alike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose Virgil as Raven because they are both "dark" characters that want to be good instead (and because of the colour scheme tbh), and I chose Janus as Cedar because of reasons that will soon be revealed
> 
> P.S: I tried the 'Rich text' thing so that I could use things like italics and that's why the dialogue isn't going to be proper


	3. Simply, Unquestionably, Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman White gets ready for Legacy Year.

Roman White opened the red silk curtains even wider to let in all that buttery sunshine.   
“My, what a perfect day for travel!” he said.

His bedroom was bustling with servants in matching white uniforms, dwarves running errands, and friendly woodland creatures. 

A robin hovered before Roman, a red shoe in its beak. It cocked its head to one side as if asking a question. 

“Yes, pack that one,” said Roman. “In fact, let’s just pack all of my shoes, shall we?”

The squirrels rustling across the floor squeaked in unison. They began carrying shoes from the closet and depositing them in an open trunk as if storing nuts for the winter.   
“Not the blue ones,” Roman called to a bluebird in his sock drawer. “The white ones please!”

Roman’s MirrorPhone chimed to announce he’d received another hext message. This one was from Remy Beauty. Roman typed with one hand while brushing his blond curls with the other. His hair never seemed to need brushing, but he was an overachiever.

**Remy: When will u get to Ever After High Ro?**

**Roman: My father is preparing the Hybrid Carriage now. I should be there in a few short hours.**

**Remy: Hexcellent! I’m planning a Book-to-School party, gonna be a page ripper!!!**

**Roman: I’m there. Charm you later!**

“Snoozy! Snappy!” Roman called to his dwarf lackeys. “The first four trunks are ready to go. Would you be so kind as to carry them down? You too Pouty - don’t you stick out that bottom lip, you silly.”

“My name’s not Pouty,” Frank said poutily.

“Careful with that end, Sloppy!” Roman said cheerfully.

“My name is Phil,” Sloppy grumbled.

Roman laughed. “You sillies!”

He patted their heads, and they couldn’t help but smile. Who could hold back a smile when talking to Roman White?

The sounds of cheering floated in through his window. Roman stepped onto his balcony and the cheering grew louder. In the courtyard below, hundreds of men, woman, and children from the village had gathered, many wearing I <3 Roman T-shirts.

“My dear subjects, you are simply, unquestionably perfect!” he called out, tossing candy and coins to the crowd. He kept a candy-and-coin basket on the balcony so he would be ready for adoring crowds at a moment's notice.

“No,  _ you  _ are perfect!” someone shouted, and the cheering renewed. He pressed his hand to his heart. The whole world was just so perfectly splendid he could just burst!

Above Roman, some birds carried a long white ribbon in their beaks. A message was stitched across the satin ribbon: WE LOVE YOU ROMAN! EMBRACE YOUR DESTINY! 

_ Destiny. _ He was beginning his Legacy Year, the first step in the journey to achieve his own Happily Ever After. Roman could hardly wait.

Roman strode down to the courtyard where his parents waited like a portrait of the perfect King and Queen. His mother’s black hair was curled under her golden crown. Her skin was still white as snow, her lips red as blood. She was as beautiful now as she had been when a magic mirror had named her the Fairest Of Them All. Roman’s father stood beside his wife, one hand on his sword hilt, always ready to do battle - though, of course, he’d never actually done any battle. His claim to fame had been falling in love with a girl inside a glass coffin. But he looked so regal with a sword.

“This is a royally important year,” said Roman’s mother as he stepped into the Hybrid Carriage. Her voice was high and a little squeaky, as if all that time spent lost in the woods had taken its toll. “I am so proud of you! I know you will prepare yourself to be the perfect Snow White.” 

The maids, servants, guards and dwarves in the huge Hybrid Carriage all nodded. Roman smiled. They must have notice how dedicated he was to his subjects, how hard he had been studying Kingdom Management, all the time he put into preparing to rule-

“Just look at his eyes, his skin,” whispered one of the maids.

“I did not think it possible,” a groomsman whispered back, “but he is becoming even more handsome than his parents.”

“Yes,” said a servant. “The perfect Snow White.”

“Well except for the hair. A shame he was born blond. And a boy.”

Roman winced.”

“Well, the eldest Charming is a girl, so that works out. And I think his blond is even lovelier than black hair.

“How can you? The fairytale specifies ‘hair like ebony’-”

“Listen, the hair doesn’t matter. His eyes, his skin, those lips, that profile! He is the definition of beauty.”

Roman turned his face to the window as the Hybrid Carriage started on its way. Was that all anyone saw in him? A perfect profile? As beautiful as his mother? Surely being Snow White, even a male Snow White, meant more than just looking handsome and having black hair.

Legacy Year would be  _ his  _ year. The beginning to  _ his _ story. But he didn’t want to prove that he was handsome enough to be a king, black hair or blond.

He wanted to prove he could rule like one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I chose Roman as Apple because of both their similar personalities and similar colour schemes. I also chose Remy as Briar cause, like, Sleep as the son of Sleeping Beauty? I had to!
> 
> Also, you might have noticed that my book "A Very Magickal Grade Nine" is gone. It had the least amount of reads, kudos, chapters, and motivation. I've deleted it because I can only handle writing two books right now.   
> However, it will be replaced by a new book, coming August 31st!


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